


All I Have Left

by HappyJuicyfruit



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Good Friend Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Grief/Mourning, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, M/M, Protective Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, post episode 6 fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22917139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyJuicyfruit/pseuds/HappyJuicyfruit
Summary: The crowd always fell for Jaskier’s smiles. His fake laugh, and his overkill jokes. They threw him coins for his songs, and bought him food for his exaggerated charm.She wondered, as he fell onto the bed beside her, how exhausting it must be to put on a mask for everyone around them.He never put on a mask for her though. Never had.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 24
Kudos: 661





	All I Have Left

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This one is a bit bittersweet. Hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> Warnings *contain spoilers*: Yennefer and Jaskier talk about dead babies. (Yennefer's experience with burying the baby on the beach. Jaskier's own experience with a dying child)   
> Jaskier's grief is alluded to throughout the fic from Yennefer and Geralt's perspective.

Yennefer didn’t know what she was looking for, but she was certain she would know when she found it. There was something in her that wouldn’t let her rest. Wouldn’t let her stop wandering from town to town, tavern to tavern. 

Maybe it was an impossible urge to heal something that could never be returned. Maybe Geralt was right, and she should give up this stupid quest and live a normal life like every other sourceress. 

But she couldn’t. Not until she had no options left. 

So she wandered. Portals were well and good, but it was hard to keep an ear to the ground, to hear news that wasn’t spread around the same groups of people, if she didn’t go to new places, after all. 

That’s how she ended up in the tavern tonight, following a lead that ended up being a hopeless myth. 

That’s how she ended up sitting at a stool, drinking ale, watching the Witcher’s bard sing about Geralt’s journey’s, a grin on his face, and a look of sorrow in his eyes. 

Her decision to stay was not because of him, but him being here didn’t hurt either. 

“I heard you parted ways,” was her opening line, and by the way he flinched she realized it may not have been her best. “Why are you still singing his songs?” 

Jaskier shrugged, he didn’t say anything as he accepted the ale she passed to him. She had been expecting a quip back. An insult, perhaps. Instead she got a ‘thank you for the ale’, and a ‘good night’. 

It didn’t sit well with her. 

\-- 

Jaskier was halfway down the road already when Yennefer set out the next morning, so she steered her horse in his direction. He didn’t glance up, as she slowed to match his pace beside him. 

“Why don’t you have a horse?” 

Jaskier looked up at her. Another shrug. 

“Jaskier?” 

“Why bother? My feet work fine.” 

Yennefer cocked her head, but eventually nodded. She didn’t know what answer she had been expecting, anyway. 

“Where are you headed?” 

“Next town over.” 

Yennefer looked down at him, but his eyes were on the road ahead. “What’s your final destination?” 

“Don’t really have one.” 

“Oh…” 

Yennefer looked around. She hadn’t had a plan, after this, and hadn’t heard anything new from any of her sources. 

Following along Jaskier’s wayward path seemed as good of a plan as any. 

He didn’t ask her why she kept pace with him through the day, and she didn’t offer up the information herself. 

She wondered if this was how Jaskier and Geralt had joined forces, way back when. 

She wondered if Jaskier was thinking of him too. 

\-- 

Jaskier played music, as he walked. He practiced his old songs, and worked on new ones as his feet lead the way down the path. 

Yennefer found she didn’t mind. It was actually nice, not having to travel in silence for once. 

She couldn’t picture Geralt enjoying this though. She didn’t think she could take it more than a few days herself. 

\--

“Why do you only play songs about Geralt?” She asked as they sat beside the fire two nights later. 

They still hadn’t spoken about being travel companions now, and she supposed they never would, at this point. It just was, now.

Jaskier hummed, his fingers plucking the strings. “He’s all I have left now, I suppose…” 

Yennefer frowned, “what does that mean?” 

Jaskier didn’t reply, he started playing the song he’d made about the “Great Dragon Battle” instead. Yennefer watched him, confused. 

_ He’s all I have left _ … but he didn’t even have Geralt, the Witcher had sent him away, according to her source. 

But… Jaskier never spoke about anyone else. Never wrote songs about anyone else. Maybe the bard had a point, maybe Geralt  _ was _ all he had. 

Maybe there was someone in this world as lonely as her after all. 

\-- 

The crowd always fell for Jaskier’s smiles. His fake laugh, and his overkill jokes. They threw him coins for his songs, and bought him food for his exaggerated charm. 

She wondered, as he fell onto the bed beside her, how exhausting it must be to put on a mask for everyone around them. 

He never put on a mask for her though. Never had. 

“Any news on the baby making front?” Jaskeir asked, in the weird way of asking he had. 

“No, towns people are useless.” 

“Then why are you wandering around towns?” 

“Because nobles are useless as well.” Yennefer lay her head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “Someone, somewhere, will have my answers for me. I just need to find them.” 

“Right, well, perhaps we should go to a city next. City folk might be the good in-between of town useless and noble useless. Perhaps they might be a tiny bit useful, even.” 

Yen grinned. She didn’t know if it was the suggestion, or Jaskier’s casual use of ‘we’ that lifted her spirits. 

She decided not to put too much thought into it. 

\-- 

The city was a bust. Cityfolk were just as useless as townspeople, turned out, but there was one good thing that came of it - Jaskier got a horse. 

Apparently, the infamous White Wolf had been through not too long before they had, and ‘Toss a Coin’ had gone over so well, the bard earned enough to pay for an old mare. 

She wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at, but she was sturdy. And Yennefer could tell Jaskier liked her. 

“I’m going to name her… Daisy.” 

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “She already has a name.” 

Jaskier waved her off, “hardly. No one’s loved this girl properly before. She will be Daisy, and she will be mine,” Jaskier pet her nose, pressed his forehead to her neck, “my Daisy.” 

They rode out a few hours after that, and Jaskier discovered Daisy was so well trained, he could play on her back and she would follow Yennefer unprompted. If Yen had been hoping for some silence, she wasn’t going to be getting it. 

She hadn’t been though. 

“Should we follow after the Wticher’s trail?” She asked at the edge of the city, “I heard rumor he was heading North.” 

“Let’s go West then… he made his views quite clear that he didn’t want a travel companion. Though I’m sure you could join along, if you wanted to.” 

“No,” Yennefer said, perhaps a tad too quickly, by Jaskier’s smile, “Geralt doesn’t need a travel companion. I think this is working out just fine.” 

“Then after you, my lady.” 

Yennefer shook her head at him, but she did lead the way down the path. 

\-- 

Sometimes, late at night, when she was sure Jaskier thought she was asleep… he played different songs. Softer songs. 

Songs she was sure sounded like lullabies. 

She didn’t think much of it, until he started playing it on Daisy’s back one day. They were in between towns, still two days journey before the next one, when the soft notes sounded from Jaskier’s lute. 

Yennefer glanced over at him, but his eyes were miles away. His face etched with sorrow, as his fingers played on their own accord. 

Yennefer wondered, for the first time, where Jaskier had come from. What his story was, for his fingers to play a lullaby while his mind was away. 

What did he do, when he wasn’t with Geralt? She had assumed this, traveling from town to town to play music and make some coin, but now…now she was thinking maybe there was more to it than that. 

“That’s a lullaby,” she said gently, watching as Jaskier blinked himself out of his thoughts. 

When he finally looked at her, his eyes were still sad, but his smile was real. “Yes, I guess it is, sorry.. I got a bit carried away there-” 

“Don’t be, it was lovely. Do you play lullabies often?” 

Jaskier looked away, the lute clutched in his hand. “Not anymore.” 

Yennefer frowned, but before she could say anything Jaskier was plucking the strings again. 

“How about something a little more upbeat, hmm? I’ve been trying to think of a new tune to compete with ‘Toss a Coin’, but it’s difficult when you’re muse isn’t with you.” 

Yennefer laughed, “you could always write a song about me.” 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Jaskier winked at her, “I just might.” 

Yennefer shook her head at him. They both knew she did it fondly. 

\-- 

Jaskier cried, sometimes, in his sleep. He didn’t cry out, or disturb her, or anything like that; just sometimes, she would glance over at him, and notice the tears running down his face. 

They never talked about it. In the mornings, he would wipe the salty tracks off his cheeks and move on with his morning routine. 

Yennefer didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone more heartbroken in her entire life. 

Sometimes, she envied him. She wished she could feel in the same deep way Jaskier obviously did. She wished she could find someone she cared about that much. 

But at the same time… she pitied him. She doubted Geralt was crying himself to sleep, wherever he was. 

Though, she supposed, that was why she was traveling with Jaskier, and not him. 

  
  


—

It took four months of traveling together, but finally,  _ finally _ , she found a lead. 

A tale of a pond that healed all wounds. A water that could creep under her skin, heal her body, her womb… her very soul. 

Jaskier sounded skeptical, but he followed after her nonetheless into the forest beside yet another godforsaken town. Hopefully her last. 

Jaskier had the decency not to say ‘I told you so’ when the pond ended up being nothing but that… a muddy pond in the middle of the woods. 

“Perhaps you just need to stay in it longer,” he said, poking the water’s edge with his toe. “Maybe it’s an overnight type of thing. Can’t expect it to heal all your woes in a few minutes, can you?” 

Yennefer shook her head, buttoning her dress back on. “No, I don’t feel anything. This water has as many magical properties as a dead tree.” 

“Right, well… it’s a nice place to camp for the night, at least?” 

Yennefer smiled at him, tight lipped, “yes, I supposed it is.” 

— 

“Why is this so important to you, anyway?” Jaskier asked her that night, his lute propped up next to him, his back on the grass. “The whole having a baby thing?” 

“I want to be important to someone. I want to make an impact on someone’s life that’s not my own.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but you can like… help out orphans, for that, and you’re smart enough to have figured that out on your own. So, why do you want your very own, flesh and blood, baby?” 

So Yennefer, with a heavy heart, told him. She told him about the babe she had tried to save, but had accidentally killed in the sea. She told him about holding her as her skin grew cold and blue. She told him about burying her in the sand, and knew that it wasn’t enough. 

“Ever since then… I’ve wanted to make one of my own. To care for something that wasn’t cold.” 

“I can understand that,” Jaskier said, barely more than a whisper, “... they do get awfully cold.” 

“What?” Yennefer sat up, but Jaskier didn’t say anything. He was still staring up at the sky, his eyes distant, his face full of sorrow… and suddenly, it all made a lot more sense. 

The lullabies. The sadness. The sorrow that followed him, even in his sleep… Jaskier wasn’t morning his travels with Geralt, he was morning the  _ loss of his family _ . 

“Oh, Jaskier, why didn’t you say anything?” 

Jaskier finally turned to her, “say anything about what?” 

“Don’t play dumb, you know what. This whole time I thought it was Geralt but… do you even love him?” 

“Of course I do. Geralt’s my best friend, even if he doesn’t… even if I thought we could have- and he obviously didn’t-“ 

“But that’s not why you’re upset, all the time. Your sorrow is for your lost child, isn’t it?” 

Jaskier sighed, sitting up to face her. “It was years ago, Yennefer, I’m really fine.” 

“You’re really  _ not _ fine,” Yennefer countered. 

“No, I- it was just easier, to move on, when I was traveling with Geralt, see. I could focus on his conquests, on my songs. But with you, and your obsession with… it’s just harder to distract myself from... But I’m fine, seriously.”

“He abandoned you, when you needed him the most.” 

“No- no, he- I never told him, about William. I just… suddenly started following him again, and never left. I can understand his annoyance, believe me, no one has put up with me for as long as he did. Just you wait, in a years time, you’ll be wanting to-“ 

“Jaskier,” Yennefer snapped, rising to her feet, “even now, after everything he’s done, you defend him?” 

“It’s not like- I really am fine, Yen.” 

“You are not fine, and Geralt tossing you aside like you’re some overexcited dog certainly did not help you.” She was furious at the Witcher. So furious, that she wanted to shout at his face, and stab at his chest. 

And why not? He deserved it. 

“Yennefer, can we just- what are you doing?” 

“ _ We _ are going to see Geralt, and  _ I _ am giving that Witcher a piece of my mind.” 

The portal was up now, and Yennefer was already halfway through it before she realized Jaskier wasn’t following. 

“Jaskier, come on.” 

“Yennefer, I… I can’t-“ Jaskier’s voice broke off. “Geralt doesn’t want to see me, and I don’t… I don’t want to leave Daisy behind. I- I just want to keep going the way we had been going.” 

Yennefer’s eyes softened, “Jaskier, the way things are going is hurting you.” 

“I…” he hugged his arms around himself. “I can’t-“ 

“Then wait here,” Yennefer said, “stay exactly here, and I’ll come back to you soon.” 

She stepped through before he replied, assuming that he would follow her orders. 

After all, where else did he have to go? 

\-- 

Things for Geralt were… not going well. 

They weren’t going badly. He was still killing monsters, still making coin. He still avoided townspeople, and the townspeople avoided him. 

But only 6 months without Jaskier, and people were calling him ‘the Butcher’ again. He hadn’t realized how much just having the bardling beside him changed people's opinions of him. 

It wasn’t all of them, no, many of them still cheerfully hummed about tossing a coin to him as they paid him his owed coin. Geralt refused to admit he preferred these clients to the ones who called him ‘the Butcher’ as they asked him to kill something for them. 

He refused to admit that he missed the bard by his side for more reasons than that. 

He traveled aimlessly, moving West, then North, and now West again. 

He refused to admit that he missed the music. The conversation. The… company. 

Whatever it was aching his heart, he tried not to think about it. 

He’d fucked up, anyway. Even if he ran into Jaskier again, he doubted the bard would want to talk to him long enough for Geralt to apologize. He’d been… harsh, with his words. 

Unthinking. 

...Cruel. 

It was better, this way. Jaskier was safe, singing to crowds and not running from monsters. And Geralt was just fine without him. 

… Yes. It was best not to think about it. 

—

Geralt was camped out under the overhang of a boulder in the mountains. Roach was asleep beside him. He stared out of the overhang, up at the stars that speckled the sky. He thought of the job he expected to pick up tomorrow, of a wendigo eating people in this high up village. 

He resolutely did not think about a certain bard. 

It was rather difficult to do, but he was managing. He focused on the stars. Or the best ways to kill a wendigo. Or the ways Jaskier’s fingers looked while he was- 

He focused on the stars. 

“Fuck.” He moaned to himself. 

“What the  _ fuck _ were you thinking, Geralt of Rivia?” 

Geralt jumped to his feet, turning to see Yennefer angrily marching towards him. 

“What-“ 

She slapped him, rather hard, right across the face. 

He grabbed her wrist before she could do it again. “What?” He growled again, glaring down at her. 

“You abandoned your friend while he was grieving?” She snapped at him. “And here I thought the legends of Witcher’s not having hearts wasn’t true.” 

Geralt frowned, confused, “what are you talking-“ 

“Jaskier, you fool!” She wrenched her wrist away, glowering at him. “What other friend do you have?” 

Geralt looked between her, and the mountain top around them. Neither brought him answers. “Jaskier… isn’t grieving.” 

Yennefer laughed, a bitter sound, “Jaskier understood my morbid tale of burying a dead baby more than anyone else I have spoken to. If he is not in mourning, he is a much better actor than I gave him credit for.” 

Geralt frowned, “Jaskier never had a baby.” 

“Perhaps you don’t know him as well as you thought,” she poked a finger at his chest. “Perhaps you didn’t ever think to find out what your friend was doing when he wasn’t following behind you. Perhaps you are a giant selfish  _ asshole- _ “ 

Geralt pushed her hand away, “yes, I got it, thank you. What would you like me to do about this? I doubt he counts me as a friend after-“ 

“He does. He doesn’t think you want to see him, but he still cares about you.” Yennefer crossed her arms. “Even if you don’t deserve it.” 

Geralt winced at the words, “well...I don’t know where he is.” 

“I know where he is,” Yennefer bent over, grabbed his bag and threw it at him. “I will take you to him, and you will fix it. I don’t want to spend another night watching Jaskier cry in his sleep.” 

Geralt hesitated for only a moment before he started to gather his things together. It didn’t take long for him to pack up Roach. It took a bit longer to convince the mare that they needed to move. Now. 

He didn’t want to think about Jaskier crying in his sleep. 

“Ready?” Yennefer asked, already opening a portal in front of them. They stepped through together, into a clearing beside a pond. A small fire sat, it’s embers glowing in the dark. A horse stood to the side, tied to a tree. 

There was no sign of Jaskier. 

“Shit,” Yennefer cursed.

—- 

They didn’t wait for daybreak to start tracking him. With Geralt’s eyes, and Yennefer’s glowing hands, they were able to follow Jaskier’s tracks easily. As they followed after him, Yennefer informed Geralt about their new friendship. She told him about their travels together, for the last few months. About his help in finding her a cure for her infertility. 

He learned about her suspicion that there was something more going on with Jaskier, and Geralt’s heart sank when he learned that Jaskier, just this night, had confirmed it. 

Jaskier had lost a child, a few years ago, and had never mentioned it. 

Worse, Geralt had never noticed anything off with her friend. Or if he had… he hadn’t bothered to question it. Humans were weird, ever changing, confusing beings. Even humans with a bit of something else mixed in. Geralt, for the most part, avoided their kind. 

So of course he went and fell in love with one. 

Geralt froze, his head close to the earth and his nostrils flaring. “He’s close,” he said, before hopping onto Roach’s back and riding ahead, towards the familiar scent. 

He lost Yennefer behind him, but he paid her no mind. Both of them knew Jaskier was the priority right now. He found Jaskier only a few moments later, leaning against a tree and staring up at the stars. He hadn’t even made a fire. 

His gaze fell down to Geralt as he entered the clearing, and Geralt saw him sigh. He hadn’t come to cause the bard more pain, but Geralt didn’t know what to do to fix it either. 

They stared at each other. 

“I’m sorry,” Geralt finally said, breaking the silence. He got off of Roach’s back when it became clear Jaskier wasn’t about to bolt. 

Jaskier looked away, “it’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” Geralt dropped Roach’s riens, moved forward to crouch in front of the bard. “Jaskier… you never told me you were... Had I known-“ 

“It’s fine, Geralt. I didn’t want to put that grief on your shoulders. It’s mine to bare.” 

“Jaskier… what is it you keep telling me? That’s what friends are for?” 

Jaskier looked at him then, and Geralt’s chest ached at the sorrow in Jaskier’s eyes. He felt relieved when the bard cocked a brow at him, “oh, so now you admit we’re friends.” 

“Yes… if you’ll still have me.” 

Jaskier’s lips quirked at him, but it faded just as quickly. “If you want to… do this again, properly this time, then you should probably know some things about me.” 

Geralt hummed, “I already know you’re annoyingly persistent, Jask.” 

Jaskier let out a laugh, but it didn’t last. “My family is cursed.” 

Geralt’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. 

“We all… or  _ usually _ , we all die young. There’s a sickness in our blood. An illness that affects us all, at some point. Some last until their 50’s, but that’s the oldest Pancratz I’ve heard of. My own father died before I was born… my mother left me with his family. She didn’t know what to do with me, without him there. And I suppose she was scared, for what the sickness would do to me. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized I was different from the rest of them. I don’t age the same. I don’t even get small colds, let alone…” Jaskier clenched his fist, his eyes on his hands. “The sickness isn’t in me, not with my mother’s blood running in my veins and fighting it off… but William-“ 

Jaskeir choked on his own words, clenching his eyes tight. Geralt gave him a moment, before reaching forward and laying his hand on top of the bard’s clenched fists. He looked up at Geralt in surprise, but Geralt didn’t let go. He squeezed Jaskier’s hand, and held on until his breathing was normal again. 

“William wasn’t so lucky.” 

Geralt nodded. “You have Elvish blood in you. I’ve always known.” 

“Oh… is that what it is.” 

“Yes. It’s.. faint. It makes sense that your son wouldn’t have as many benefits, but he should have been able to fight off sickness, better than most.” 

“He was born too early. He was always… weaker than he should have been.” 

Geralt nodded again, but he didn’t know what to say to that part. 

“Is that all? Because none of what you’ve just told me has stopped me from wanting you.” 

Jaskier cleared his throat, “I’m… the last, Geralt. You’re all I have, and… I know I can be a lot, so, if you don’t think you can handle all of me, for longer than a few months at a time, than I don’t think I could survive another fight. I think it would be best if-“ 

Jaskier’s eyes widened comically as Geralt pushed his lips against the bards. Geralt grinned at him when he pulled back. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I don’t have anyone else, either, if you hadn’t noticed.” 

“That’s not true- you have-“ 

“I only have one person who matters.” Geralt cupped Jaskier’s face in his palm, “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better.. I’m sorry I wasn’t better, before.” 

“I’m sorry I never told you about William.” 

Geralt grunted, that wasn’t his information to know, if Jaskier didn’t want him to. But Jaskier’s eyes were filling with tears, and Geralt was running out of words. He pulled the bard into his arms, and felt his chest loosen as Jaskier pushed his head against Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt buried his nose into Jaskier’s hair, content. 

“Good, I’m glad you’ve made up,” a voice rang out behind them. “Now get to the kissing already.” 

Jaskier pulled away, smirking at Yennefer over Geralt’s shoulder. “Already done, Yen, you missed out. It was quite romantic.” 

“Hm, better than any kiss I ever had with the Witcher then.” 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure our relationship has always been a bit deeper than-“ 

“Enough,” Geralt growled.

“You’re right,” Jaskier winked at him, “enough talk, time to get back at it.” 

“Wait until I leave, please,” Yennefer stepped towards them, pulling Jaskier into a hug. Geralt watched on, still surprised these two were friends now. 

“Where are you going?” Jaskier asked. 

“While I was chasing after your sorry ass, I had to stop to take a message. A new lead, on the other side of the continent.” 

“Oh… we- I could-” 

“You’re staying here,” Yennefer pulled back, her hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, “with your muse. I’ll come check-in in a while. If anything happens until then,” she put something into Jaskier’s hand, “call me with this. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” 

Jaskier stared down at the talismen sadly. “Alright. I’ll miss our bickering.” 

“I’ll miss your songs.” Yennefer stepped back, grabbed her horse and nodded to Geralt. “Until next time.” 

And a second later, she was gone. 

They stared at the spot she had been in, until Jaskier turned to him with a grin. 

“See?  _ Someone _ likes my singing.” 

Geralt rolled his eyes.

\-- 

They spent a month traveling together, getting to know each other again, getting to know each other in new ways, before Geralt heard one of the songs Yennefer had mentioned. 

A lullaby. 

He turned to watch Jaskier, plucking the notes off his lute, his eyes on the fire in front of them. Geralt waited until the song was over before he said anything. 

“Will you tell me about him?” he asked gently, “about your William?”

Jaskier smiled, bittersweet. “His laugh was my favorite music...” 

Geralt wrapped an arm around his bard, and listened as Jaskier told him about his son, who only lived to be two years old. And when Jaskier started to falter, when his eyes grew misty with tears, Geralt kept holding on. 

He wasn’t ever letting go again. 

\--

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment or kudos to let me know what you think :) 
> 
> Or if you like my fics,[come say hi on tumblr!](http://happyjuicyfruit.tumblr.com/)


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